The murmurs were making things worse.

"Oh, what a beautiful princess!"

"She must be a friend of the bride."

"You don't think she's Princess Tutu, do you?"

"Has anyone seen her since Sir Parsifal found her?"

"But isn't that Sir Parsifal's son escorting her?"

"It couldn't be. Sir Lohengrin fell."

"He's in knight's raiment. And he looks just like Sir Lohengrin."

"I wonder if he feel-"

Fakir cuts off that whisperer with a glare.

"...he even glowers like Sir Lohengrin."

Duck sways with the music as she watches Mytho and Rue share their first dance. They were always good partners but now both of them move with such happiness, such love. She's so caught up in bouncing to the song that she hardly notices when their dance is over until a well-dressed young man, likely a member of the court, taps her on the shoulder.

"Pardon me but may I have this dance?" he asks, offering his hand.

"Ah-! Oh! I mean-" Duck stammers, raising her hands in front of her face and shaking her head. "I'm not any good at dancing! I'm sure you wouldn't have any fun dancing with me!"

The courtier chuckles softly. "I don't mind if you're not good at dancing. Won't you please dance with me?"

Duck hesitates once again before giving a glance to Fakir. When he shrugs in response, she sheepishly puts her hand in the courtier's.

Fakir smiles when he sees Duck begin to loosen up and enjoy herself on the dance floor. The sway of her skirt and the bend of her arm is captivating. She's smooth on her feet, each step a natural progression. She flits and flutters on her toes. She leaps with her legs outstretched. He has to admit, Duck is really good at ballet.

The Knight starts when his mind reaches that thought. When did that happen?

Another courtier approaches Duck asking for a dance once the next song ends. The crowd is captivated, giving Fakir an opportunity to slip out into the courtyard.

Fakir tries not to let fear freeze him up. He forces his mind to slow down and focus on his breathing as he stretches. How...how does he stretch again?

Just skip it, he mentally chides himself. I'm as relaxed and focus as I'm going to be in this state. Just get on with it.

Fakir puts himself in first position and pushes his head down to look at his feet as they awkwardly stick out.

No.

Second position, his arms shaking as he extends them in a jerky motion. Third position, arm bent without any hint of grace and feet threatening to trip him even as he stays still. He can't even manage to twist himself into fourth or fifth. The reality of the situation is too strong right now.

Even if I couldn't...

So that's what he sacrificed, his reciprocation.

Duck finally excuses herself from dancing, well tired and surprised at her own skill. It's as if some amazing dream has come true tonight, leaving her giddy. She finds her way out to the courtyard just as Fakir gives up on his attempts to dance.

"Ah, needed some air, too?" she asks after a moment, suddenly quite nervous once the words leave her lips. Fakir is a very private person, after all, and he might have wanted his time alone.

This feeling grows when he turns his head to her, his expression muted as he responds, "Yeah."

"Do you... did you want me to go?" Duck asks, wringing the front of her skirt a little.

"No!" Fakir answers, turning the rest of his body to face her. "No, you can stay."

Duck smiles and takes a step closer to him. "Did you... I mean, I know I'm just... I'm not really Princess Tutu or anything but... Did you want to dance?"

He smiles for her sake. "Aren't you tired?"

"I just need a little break," she insists, taking yet another step. And then, thoughtfully, "You know, we never really had a good dance."

Fakir considers protesting but, the more he thinks about the Lake of Despair, the more he realizes she's right. It summons a lump in his throat, knowing they won't be able to dance like that under any better circumstances.

"No. We didn't."

Duck smiles up at him hopefully before circling her hands over her head. It takes a moment for Fakir to understand that she's asking him in dance what she asked before in words. He takes the hand she offers but doesn't move beyond that, confusing her.

No matter how many times he sees that expression, it never fails to charm him.

"I'm sorry but I can't," he finally answers. "Not tonight."

"No?"

"No."

Duck's face falls and Fakir's heart twists.

"Is it- is it me?" she asks.

"Of course not. You're beautiful." He presses on even as she softly takes in a breath. "You are. And kind. And I love you."

They're still for some time after the confession, neither willing to pull away as the meaning sinks in deeper and deeper. Eventually the Knight takes his hand back and manages to bow to her. One step backwards becomes two, then three, and somehow he keeps from stumbling as he turns and takes his leave of the courtyard with the intention of parsing out these events in his quarters.

Duck trembles as Fakir departs, far more unsure now than she was before.